


Junk

by LeannieBananie



Series: A Madness Made for Two [2]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Awkwardness, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Pre-Relationship, Sexual Tension, Swearing, Teasing, Wrestling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 22:43:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5351120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeannieBananie/pseuds/LeannieBananie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hancock is teasing Jo about hoarding weird shit for it's components and she tries to put him in his place, but things get awkward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Junk

**Author's Note:**

> Set before _Running away is what he knows best_ , this is a little insight into Jo and how she feels about her attraction to Hancock, cause come on, you know the SS has gotta be a little messed up about everything.
> 
> Kudos and comments are welcomes and holler if you see any mistakes.
> 
> Also, guys thank you so much for the lovely comments, I pretty much squeed over every one.

“Well if anyone could find a use for _that_ , it’s you.” His amused raspy voice came from the train car, where he sprawled on his back rolling a Mentat around his mouth. Probably berry flavored, those were his favorite. Jo refused to dwell on the fact that she knew enough about him to know what his favorite flavor of Mentats was. 

“Just because you lack imagination Hancock, doesn’t mean the rest of us do.” She sat on the ground, surrounded by piles of “junk” as he called it, carefully breaking things apart pieces for portability. And by carefully she meant smashing things with a ballpeen hammer and then sifting through the wreckage to gather the valuable bits. Copper, gears, screws, springs, and fuses were vital components, but scarce and while he might mock her for her hoarder tendencies and her unbridled excitement over typewriters and telephones, he didn’t complain about the working generators and turrets at the settlements they traveled between. He just grunted and rolled off the car, landing with an enviable, agile grace that always caught her eye. 

He was lean and wiry, the skin tight across his body, clinging so tightly to bone, muscle, and cartilage that it was ridged and uneven. Definitely not pretty to look at it, but he wore it with an effortless charm, an elegance almost, that made it easy to watch him as he moved. And Jo watched him, more than she probably should. She wouldn’t say that she was ashamed she did, but he was the first man she had been remotely interested in since Nate and sometimes it made her feel guilty. 

It had been over a year since she had woken up and he had been dead for so much longer. Logically she knew that there wasn’t a timeline for grief and moving on, but sometimes it felt like she was moving too fast, too soon and then other times it felt as if she wasn’t moving fast enough. Jo struggled to handle all the changes in her life sometimes, but she tried to live her life as well as she could, because she didn’t have much of a choice and she refused to squander the time she had been given. It was either be in this moment or dwell in the past and if she did that she might as well have stayed in that damned vault. 

And being attracting to Hancock was a part of her new “live her life” motto. She wanted him, cared about him, and knew she had feelings for him, but there was a big difference between knowing about something and acting on it. She hadn’t quite figured out how to act on her attraction yet and she still struggled to balance her past with Nate and the future she contemplated with Hancock. She tried not to, but she compared them sometimes, Nate and Hancock. John. Nate had been clean, strong, noble, and a good father. Hancock was a leader; he was cocky and sharp and didn’t tolerate shit from anyone. He helped those who needed to be helped and hurt those who needed to be hurt, he believed in being “of the people, for the people”. He was strong too, but in different ways, ways that were better suited for the Commonwealth and better suited for her. It felt uncharitable, but she knew that Nate wouldn’t have lasted a week in the Wasteland, but Hancock was a survivor, much like herself. 

“Mole Rat got your tongue?” He teased, sinking into the dirt next to her and pulling a few items into his lap. “Might as well help you dismantle this junk or we’ll be here all week.” She deftly snatched a silver pocket watch from his fidgeting hands and maturely stuck out her tongue. 

“This is _not_ junk.” It was an age old argument and the day he stopped teasing her about it was the day she worried for his mental health. 

“Good to see that you’ve still got that.” He grinned, indicating her tongue. She glared at him and threw a hunk of plastic at his head, knocking his precious tricorn askew. He straightened it with another grin and a jaunty wink before continuing, “And yes it is. Why on earth would you grab _this_? It’s an antique!” He held the battered globe in his long fingered hands, tossing it in the air and catching it, before she yanked that out of his hands too. 

“Well it’s my antique! And for your information, that’s cork and at least one screw in there!” Jo huffed and resumed her work, bending her head to the task, but she kept sneaking glances at him from the corner of her eyes. He wasn’t actually helping, just turning random objects over and over again in his hands, feeling the edges and textures of whatever it was he held. She was mesmerized by his hands, sinewy and rough like his face and neck, but deft and oddly beautiful in their own ghoulish way. No one had hands like his. They were capable of violence, but she also knew they were also capable of great kindness. Her treacherous mind wondered if they could do tenderness as well and wondered what they would feel like on her skin. 

“See something you like?” His grin was wide, more a smirk than anything else and his eyes twinkled with mirth. Smug bastard. Jo blushed and bit her cheek to keep from grinning too, he always could make her smile, even when she was drowning in her own embarrassment. Which happened a lot around him, but she responded quickly, her tone sharp and irritable. 

“Yes, that bit of circuit board in your hands.” His self-assured grin turned teasing and he held out the small piece of technology for her to take, but when she reached for it he snapped it back, closing his palm securely around it. 

“Hancock, give that here.” She demanded, trying to sound authoritative. He ignored her and stood quickly, dancing away while holding it in his hand. 

“Come and get it, sister.” Jo flat out refused to fall for his immature tricks, but she stood up too, ignoring the valuable components that rained down from her lap onto the ground. 

“Hancock! Stop fucking around.” She growled, watching as he playfully shuffled a little closer, bouncing the circuit from hand to hand, pretending to drop it before catching it neatly in those damned nimble hands. She judged the distance between them and wondered if she could tackle him before his long legs outpaced hers. Maybe if he was distracted? Her chance came sooner than expected, when he fumbled the circuit and nearly dropped it. With a victorious shout Jo ran and launched herself at him, heedless of the ground or any obstacles in her way. 

She dug her fingers into his coat and wrapped one strong arm around his waist, driving her shoulder into his stomach. He let out a surprised grunt and she laughed as he crumpled under the force of her attack, his feet flying out from underneath him and his arms flinging out, the circuit slipping from his fingers. Jo drove him to the ground landing on top of him in a painful sprawl, her knees slamming into the hard packed dirt and scraping her palms raw on either side of Hancock’s head to stop herself from crushing him. Choking on the dust and debris that had risen up around them she wheezed out a taunt between the laughter and strangled coughing, 

“Pinned you.” Hancock didn’t say anything and in the silence that followed Jo became acutely aware of their provocative position. Her knees were on either side of his bony hips with their lower halves intimately pressed together and one of his legs was bent with a lithe thigh pressed against her ass, pushing her more firmly against him. She was holding herself above him, but their heaving chests were nearly touching and one deep breath would have caused her breasts to brush against him. That thought made her gasp and when her chest did rub along his, she stubbornly refused to acknowledge her traitorous nipples and their intense, immediate reaction to the friction. To Hancock. Blushing hotly, Jo finally forced herself to look at Hancock, knowing she’d probably regret it even as she did it. 

He wore a lazy, knowing smirk and his arms were crossed behind his bare head to prop it up off the dirt. Everything about the position was reserved and meant to alleviate any pressure she may have felt, but then she looked into his eyes. Damn those eyes. They were darker than normal, heated and intense, and the undisguised hunger in them became too much for her. She felt a hot, sickening rush of anxiety and guilt and she scrambled off him desperately mumbling apologies as she did. 

“Sorry, I- I wasn’t thinking. Sorry.” Turning she began to scoop everything up and stuff it haphazardly into her kit, hoping that a group of raiders would stumble upon them or that the earth would open up and swallow her whole. She felt like a fool; she was tangled and twisted around and didn’t know whether she was going or coming when it came to Hancock. It had been so long since anyone had made her feel this ridiculously nervous and needy and she felt another sharp pinch of guilt, because she couldn’t remember Nate ever making her feel this way. 

Jo refused to meet Hancock’s gaze, terrified of what she might see on his face, but she felt his eyes piercing into her neck and heard his rough chuckle. Inwardly she groaned, knowing that he was about to make some smart-ass comment to defuse the situation and ease her discomfort. 

“If you wanted to be on top, you only had to ask Jo. I take requests.” She let out a strangled growl of embarrassment and grabbed her things, roughly yanking on her pack. His laugh echoed loudly behind her, chasing after her as she stormed away with her ears and face burning, refusing to slow her mad pace. 

He already knew he had gotten to her and any satisfaction she had felt on surprising him over the stupid piece of circuit board was gone, burned away by the heat of her attraction and embarrassment for the smart-mouthed bastard. When he jogged up she irrationally doubled her pace, her short legs pounding up dust around them, but he easily kept up with his much longer legs, letting out another raspy chuckle over her absolute mortification.

 _Ass_.


End file.
